I Owe Him So Much
by HamburgerLover25
Summary: (College!AU) John Watson is attending King's College London Medical School, living his life day to boring, dull, depressing day. But then there comes a transfer student, one that has all the professors gossiping like school-children. Who is this new transfer student and why does John have to be stuck with his arrogant ass? (Note: This is my first fanfic on here! Enjoy!)
1. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

As happy as I was to be leaving home for University, I was also scared, even though I wouldn't admit it aloud. I've never really been on my own before. Usually Harry was with me or Mike but as far as I know, Harry has run off with her girlfriend and Mike was going to the London University for Science.

I, on the other hand, had been offered a place at King's College London. Figuring it would be easier to get my own flat instead of having to pay for the living expenses, I found myself a nice cheap place just outside of the London campus. 110 Wayward Street, practically rundown, it was, but I could afford it.

Life seemed to be good and I knew that I was going places. I had my entire life planned out when I was 16, you know. I was going to graduate with my Masters in Medicine and  
change the world. I was going to support a happy family, a wife and a few kids maybe. Things were going to grand, despite how alone I was.

Then I met the most arrogant, self-centered, frustrating, intelligent, fantastic man in the world and my vision for the future was shattered. The strangest things happened when he was around and nothing seemed to make sense until he would explain it. Sometimes, he would get me into major trouble and I thought it would be the end of me, but it all managed to be okay in the end.

I was so alone and I owe him so much.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

A loud screech from across the room startled me awake. I sat up quickly, gasping for breath as I clutched the blankets close to my heart, my arms tense. I could feel the sweat coating my forehead as the remnants of the nightmare faded away.

_It was just a dream._ I thought to myself. _It was nothing but a dream._

I knew enough about the human consciousness to know that sometimes dreams really meant nothing, that they were just a projection of your imagination and could be easily changed or forgotten. But nightmares were different. I didn't really know about nightmares. But you rarely forget nightmares.

Groaning, I shook my head and tossed the blankets away, stumbling over to my desk where my alarm clock sat. It read '6:30' in big, red, blocked numbers. Why hell am I waking up at 6:30 in the bloody morning? Oh, that's right. I have an early seminar today with . With an annoyed grunt, I shut off the damn thing and tossed it back onto my desk.

Walking back over to my bed, I flopped myself down and sighed again. Could I skip the lecture today? Surely it couldn't hurt my grades. I was at the top of my class. Missing one lecture couldn't hurt me, could it? Of course, I was at the top of my class _because _I didn't miss any lectures, but that's beside the point.

I looked around my room in boredom. Two walls were white and two were blue, my favorite colour. Like that would've made a difference in anything. There were two windows, one showing my front yard and the other giving me a lovely view of the side yard before it met with another wall, adorned with thin, white curtains that didn't do much besides collect dust. A few posters of my favorite rugby team were taped up here and there, showing that someone actually did live here, even if it wasn't really living.

Truth is, I was too tired to care. It was the same thing every day and it would be the same thing every day for the rest of my life. Wake up, go to class, come back, and go to sleep. Wake up, go to work, come back, and go to sleep. An endless road with no exits.

_Might as well go to that fucking lecture._ I thought. _I'm already awake._ I forced myself to get out of my bed and walk down the hall to my bathroom. Maybe a long shower would wake me up. I yawned as I turned the water on and let it heat up as I stripped down. Before I climbed in, however, I managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the sink mirror.

Now, I didn't have image issues, I was just honest and realistic. I was skinny, yeah, but it's not like I have a six-pack underneath my t-shirt or anything. I had my father's dirty blonde hair, which was long enough to graze my ears, and his green eyes. On the other hand, I also had my mother's shortness and her nose. Genetics….sometimes you just have no choice.

I shook my head and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water sting my skin. The steam burned my eyes and I quickly grabbed my shampoo. The scent of fresh soap and shampoo woke me up and cleared my head. I needed to hurry up.

My shower didn't take long, considering my pipes were horrible and the hot water ran out quick. I dried off and wrapped the towel around my hips as I walked out of the bathroom to get dressed.

The sun had finally showed itself in the sky and it was surprisingly bright out for 7:00 in the morning. I looked at my mobile phone to make sure my alarm wasn't wrong and sure enough, it was. 8:30?! Class started in 20 minutes!

I shouted in surprise and quickly tugged on a pair of pants and jeans while grabbing a stripped jumper and my old pair of sneakers. I slung the computer bag that sat hanging from my desk chair over my shoulder and ran out of my front door, almost forgetting to grab my keys before I shut the door.

_WHY DIDN'T I CHECK MY PHONE FIRST?!_ I scolded myself silently.

I didn't bother trying to hail a taxi; they never stopped anyways unless you were a fit woman or a rich bloke. I ran straight for the bus stop two blocks over and got on the first bus I saw that would take me to the campus. Though with my luck, I had to wait there for seven minutes before one finally showed up. It would take around ten to get to the campus on time and that only left me three minutes to get to the lecture hall.

It seemed like hours before the bus finally stopped in front of King's College London but as soon as those doors opened, I bolted and took off down the street, running like a madman to the lecture hall. I ran into a few other students and a pole or two and I arrived just in time to take a seat. _Thank you, rugby training!_ I thought as I almost passed out.

"John Watson?" said her voice full of venom. Apparently, she noticed that I was late.

"Um…yes?" I panted.

"You are late…again." She glared at me and folded her arms across her chest.

Professor Rockerfeld wasn't a scary lady. In fact, she was the least intimidating person I have ever met. But if you were ever late to her class, like I was almost every day, she would chew you up and spit you out. But today, it seemed like she wasn't hungry for a serving of John.

"Sorry, Professor Rockerfeld. It won't happen again." I attempted to smile at her but I think it turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Hmm," She pursed her lips and looked down her nose. "That's exactly what you said the last fourteen times."

A wave of chuckles swept through the hall and I felt my face turn red as I tried to pass it off with a smile, even though I really just wanted to leave.

"Nevertheless, you are here, so we shall begin." She cleared her throat and turned to the class. "Pay attention everyone. Tomorrow, a transfer student will be joining our class so you are to be kind and helpful, do you understand?" She said sternly.

Once again, whispers spread throughout the hall because people obviously had nothing else to do besides gossip.

"Transfer student?"

"We're getting a transfer student?"

"I wonder where he's from."

"Shut up, Charlie. It could be a girl."

"I hope she's fit, then." A smack resounded throughout the hall.

I honestly shared their curiosity. Who would transfer over only after a few months? A spark of interest ignited deep inside me before I quelled it with one thought: _focus on your school, you lazy twat. Remember your plan. Family, Masters, your entire future depends on school._

That seemed a bit unfair, didn't it? That the rest of my life depended on how well I did on tests in a small moment in my life. That was enough to psych anyone out. Was it even worth it? All this studying and school. What good was it in the end? It was just a piece of paper. All this money for one little piece of paper.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I couldn't start thinking that way. School was important. I had to finish. Besides, I had barely even started.

"Hey, John!" A voice said to me. "You comin' to tonight's party, mate?" I turned and saw it was Charlie, the boy who had been smacked.

"Yeah, Charlie. I'll be there." I smiled half-heartedly. "It'll be a blast."

"Damn right!" Charlie laughed. Charlie was the first person to talk to me when I arrived here on my first day. Since then, I guess he could be considered my best friend, even though we barely knew each other and we only ever talked about parties and girls. He liked to joke about how many girls would want to shag him, as if that was ever going to happen.

"Just wait until it happens to you!" He would laugh. But he's wrong.

Nothing ever happens to me.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

The lecture passed without any interruptions, sadly. I spent the last half hour doodling cartoons over my notes, if that's what you could call them. How many times was Professor Rockerfeld going to talk about advanced medicinal techniques?

When she finally let us out of that damned hall, it seemed like half of the day had passed by and I was headed back to my flat because really, what else was there in this world that was worth being awake for? I yawned and tightened my grip on my computer bag before I felt a _buzz!_ in my pocket.

**Charlie:**

_Hey! dont forget about 2nites party!_

I sighed as I remembered his invitation at the beginning of the lecture. Why did I tell him I would go to his damned party? I was too tired for that. _I'll just cancel on him._

_Sorry, mate. I'm going to have to cancel._

**BUZZ!**

_Really?! mary will be there ;D_

Mary? I raised my eyebrows in interest. Mary was in my Chemistry 104 course. Sure, she was very pretty, but I've only ever talked to her once. She was very self-confident, saying the strangest things, but it was kind of charming. _Maybe I will go…_

_Alright, what time will it be?_

**BUZZ!**

_nice! XD come on over after ur last class, k?_

I smiled at my phone before shoving it into my pocket. Well, looks like I actually have something to look forward to. Charlie really needed to stop texting like an idiot, though.

My last class of the day was Psychology, probably one of the worst courses I possibly have to take. It's not that I disliked the subject, I found it to be rather interesting, but it was the _professor!_ Professor Smith was an absolute bore and I wasn't surprised when I looked around and saw that half of the class had fallen asleep as he continued to drone on at the front of the room.

I rested my chin in the palm of my hand and looked around, trying to keep myself from falling asleep. It was a fairly large classroom, with seats circling the front of the room as if it were an arena. A podium stood at the front of the room with a large blackboard behind it, where the one Professor Smith stood.

I looked at the clock above the door, willing it to go faster so I could finally leave here, when something caught my eye. I squinted and looked closer at the small window that adorned the door. There was a man, just standing there, watching. Was he lost? As far as I could tell, he had midnight-black, curly hair that almost went past his eyes. He looked at the professor and then raised a paper to his face. Shaking his head, he shrugged what I guess was a bookbag onto his shoulder and walked away.

_What the fuck?_ I thought, my face contorted into a confused expression. I guess Professor Smith thought I was confused on his lesson because he called on me.

"Watson, do you have a question to ask or are you too busy admiring the door?" His voice was slow and monotonous, which was the reason most of us fell asleep listening to him.

"Um…ah…n-no, sir." I stammered back, looking back and forth between him and the door where the strange man had stood. Who was he?

When the class was _finally_ over, I gathered up my things and slowly walked out of the classroom. I was brain dead. There was no way I was going to pass this year. My brain was mush and all these professors managed to do was keep it that way. I was dead.

I sighed as I took a bus into town. I was almost out of food anyways, so I might as well get some while I went to pick up some wine-coolers for Charlie. I got off the bus and walked to the closest grocer I could find. I didn't plan on drinking much, though. It ran in my family, alcoholism. Harry was a pretty bad example. We used to be pretty close before she met Clara and alcohol, her mistress. Then we drifted apart and here we are today.

In the midst of my pity party, I stopped paying attention to where I was going and ran into someone, dropping my tomatoes and causing them to drop their…eyeballs?

"Oh, I'm so sorry…wasn't paying attention." I apologized, reaching down to pick up my tomatoes.

"Well, maybe you should start." A deep voice responded to me. I looked up from my crouched position and saw a tall man with porcelain skin and dark, curly hair. He wore faded jeans and Vans, with a purple shirt and a black hoodie. He seemed about my age, if maybe a little younger.

"I'm…s-sorry, have we met…before?" I said as I looked at his familiar face. And that hair, that hair was so familiar.

"I doubt it. You would remember me if you had." He said, picking up his bag of eyeballs. Then it hit me. He was the strange man from the door!

"Oh! Weren't you outside Professor Smith's classroom earlier?" I exclaimed. Yes, it was definitely him.

"Yes, as it happens, I was. Why? Are you a student of his? Oh, of course you are." He said, giving me a dismissing wave of his hand as he bent down to grab his eyeballs.

I stood up and brushed of my jeans and looked at him again. He was taller than I had originally thought, taller than me by at least a head or two. Damnit, why was everyone fucking taller than me? The height issue was quickly chased from my mind, though, as I saw the bag of eyeballs once more.

"May I ask why you have a bag of eyeballs?"

"Well, you already did ask so it was pointless to ask permission." He began to walk away and for some reason, I followed him.

"They aren't human…are they?"

"Well, of course not! What idiot would bring a sack of human eyeballs to a grocery market? Honestly. They're fish eyes. The manager here gives them to me for a bargained price."

"Why do you need fish eyes?" I asked.

"Why do you keep asking questions?" The man stopped and turned around to face me, his features torn between annoyed and confused.

"Maybe because…..because I want to know." I shrugged, not being able to think of a better solution.

"Hmm." He mused, narrowing his eyes. I guess that was enough of an answer for him because, without saying another word, he turned around and continued to walk away.

Confused, I stood there for a while before realizing I didn't know his name.

"I'm John Watson, by the way. What's yours?" I offered, figuring that if he was at Professor Smiths room, he must be a student there as well.

"Sherlock Holmes." He offered. "I would say it was nice to meet you, John, but seeing as you made me drop my eyes, I can't really offer you that comfort. Afternoon."

And just like that, he walked out of the store, leaving me shocked in the middle of the aisle. I probably would've stood there all day, too, if Charlie hadn't texted me again.

**Charlie:**

_John, where r u, m8? _

Right, the party. I was going to a party. I was going to hang out with Charlie and Mary. But even though I was going to a party, I couldn't stop thinking of Sherlock Holmes. What a strange man.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

The music was loud from where I stood on the street outside of Charlie's house. I felt bad for the people inside who must definitely be deaf by now but they were probably too pissed to notice, either way. I sighed and walked to the front door, slightly nervous even though these people were my friends. Well, kind of.

The door opened before I could actually knock and there stood Charlie, grinning like a fool with a beer in his hand. He completely reeked of alcohol and he was actually swaying.

"John!" He yelled over the music, his speech slurred. "You are four hours fucking late! What the hell?"

"Sorry, Charlie." I responded, laughing. "I got a little distracted."

"Well, damn, I hope you was with a girl. That would be a good excuse, you fucker."

"Shut up and let me in, you cock." I laughed, shoving past him as he threw his arm around my shoulders and guffawed in my ear.

Not even five minutes in and I was burning up. All those people and the dancing and the drinking made it feel like hell. Nevertheless, when people would offer me a drink, I sure as hell didn't turn it down. After a few more hours, the bottle of vodka became my best friend.

"John! John! J-J-Johahahahahoonn!" Someone called from across the room. I was sitting down on the floor playing a drinking game with a few other people and giggling my ass off. I looked up and saw Charlie dragging some guy over to me and shoved him in front of me.

"This is my roommate, Greg! Greggy, say hiiiiiii!" Charlie laughed, barely able to finish his sentence. I think he was high, to be honest.

"Hey, John." Greg smiled softly. He was calm and quiet, so I assume he wasn't drunk like the rest of us fuckers.

"Heeyyy!" I smiled, leaning to my left a little for some odd reason. "Wa-Wazzup?" I laughed.

"Oi, Greg, John's been here for HOURS!" Charlie shouted. "I…I think…"he giggled. "I think you should take him home, you designated twat."

"You flatter me, Charlie." Greg punched him in the arm, but I could see a smile on his face…..I think. "Let's go, John."

"O-okay." I hiccupped, smiling. I don't know what was going on, but I swear to God I had just gotten here. As I stood up and wobbled around, trying to regain my balance, I realized how drunk I was. Everything was warped and colorful….or maybe that was just the lights….wait, when did lights appear?

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a strange car that smelled of cigarettes and cologne. I panicked, sitting up straight and looking around wildly, but my head throbbed and I winced.

"Woah, John, take it easy!" A familiar voice said to me. "You okay, mate?"

I forced my eyes open, despite the painful glare of light, and looked for the source of the voice. I saw a tall man, standing outside of the window, with two coffees in his hand. Well, at least, I _assumed _they were coffee, going by the smell. He also had brown hair seemed okay, but people these days were crazy and you could never trust them. Like that serial killer cabbie that they arrested a few weeks ago. That was something.

"Umm..."I shook my head, trying to clear it of random serial killer thoughts. "Um…wh-who are you?"

"I'm Charlie's friend, remember? Greg? Ah, you probably don't, seeing as you were pissed beyond life last night." His voice was loud to my drunk ears and I grimaced.

"Do you think you could talk quieter, please?" I asked.

"NOT REALLY!" He shouted, happier than he should've been. I groaned and rubbed my head.

"Sick fucker. Where am I, anyway, Greg?"

"We're in front of your flat. You refused to get out of my car, so I've stayed here all night because of you."

"Sorry."

" S'okay. Here." He handed me a coffee.

I took it happily and drank a sip, fighting the urge to grimace when it hit me. This is why I preferred tea. Coffee was so bitter. It was gross. I put it to the side, pretending I liked it, although I could tell by his face that he didn't believe me, and that he didn't care.

"So, Greg, you have a last name?" I asked.

"Lestrade. What about you, John?"

"Watson."

"That's a weird name."

"So is Lestrade." Greg smiled and shook his head, opening the car door. "John," He said. "you and I are going to be good friends." He laughed loudly.

I raised my eyebrows and climbed out rather stiffly and made my way up to my apartment, Greg following me for whatever reason, although he claimed it was because he didn't want me passing out and falling down the stairs. I ignored him, though. Despite his charm, I was very annoyed and I wasn't feeling all that chipper, either, if you could believe it.

When we got to my door, I turned to say bye and thank Greg but before I could say anything he raised his hand.

"Nice to meet you, John Watson." I grabbed his hand.

"Same to you, Greg Lestrade. Thanks for taking me home and letting me sleep in your car."

"Whatever, mate. No big deal. See you later, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Oh, I'll be busy all day, so I'm having a friend bring over the things you left at Charlie's party and a few things to help you feel better. Trust me, nothing cures a hangover like my special blend of coffee, mate. Nothin'." He smiled, waving as he took off.

"Alright…I-I guess." I stammered. "Wait! What did I leave at Charlie's flat?"

"Lots of things, actually. Your watch, your wallet, your shoes, and your phone."

"All of that shit? You've got to be fucking kidding me! Did anyone take anything?"

"Naw, mate, you're good. I kept it safe while we were there, on behalf of Charlie. I guess he knew that you'd be trashed, huh?"

"I guess." I agreed, darkly. Damn Charlie. Damn him to the worst fucking place in hell.

"See ya, Greg." I sad as I turned around.

"See ya, John."

When I got inside, I took a long, hot shower and popped some pain-killers in and sat down in front of the telly, relishing the fact that I had no classes today. I watched some re-runs of old shows I used to watch as a kid growing up with Harry before I fell asleep in my chair.

Unfortunately, I didn't sleep long before a loud knock sounded on my door, startling me awake. I looked at my clock, since I had left my watch and phone at Charlie's flat, and saw that an hour had already gone by. This must be Greg's friend, then.

Grumbling, I got up from my chair and swiped a hand over my face, as if trying to wipe away the look of exhaustion and disappointment in myself at drinking. Don't get me wrong, I'm nothing like a prude, but I didn't want to end up like my father and like Harry.

I answered the door and my eyes were face to chest with a tall man at the door. The shirt was a white button up shirt with a black hoodie covering it on both sides. I looked down and saw a pair of black Vans and a pair of faded jeans, but they seemed a little tighter than necessary.

"John, please don't stand there all day." A deep, smooth voice said to me. I looked up and saw a mop of black, curly hair and sharp, blue eyes.

"You?" I questioned. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Obviously, I'm here to drop off your things. I believe Greg mentioned I would be coming by."

"YOU'RE the friend Greg was talking about?"

"Obviously." He sniffed. "Well?"

"Oh! Uh, sorry….Sherlock, was it?" I asked, trying to remember his name. This was definitely the same bloke from the store, the one who had bought the fish eyes.

"I'm impressed you actually remember my name, John." He sounded condescending, but I didn't really care.

"Sorry, I'm a bit out of it today, as I guess you probably already know. You wanna come inside, then?"

"If you insist."


End file.
